


Push Forward (Push, Forward)

by facade



Category: Football RPF
Genre: 'Tis A Ficlet, Ambiguous Plot, Canon Timeline, Coping With the Losses, Creativity Flex, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Failure, Loss: FC Barcelona, Loss: Sevilla, Multi, Multi-Way Read, Multiple Meanings, Not Really Mature Unless Read in Certain Light, POV Second Person, Plausible Sexual Content, Premature Ejaculation, Reposted Work, Rough Week, Self Set Writing Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:19:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facade/pseuds/facade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Cristiano Ronaldo/FC Barcelona (rival - 23 Mar 2014)/Irina Shayk - can be read as sexual encounter or a game<br/>Cristiano Ronaldo/Sevilla FC (rival - 26 Mar 2014)/Sergio Ramos - can be read as sexual encounter or a game (as he was suspended and watching this match)<br/>Cristiano Ronaldo/FC Barcelona (rival - 23 Mar 2014)/Madridistas - read only as a game<br/>Cristiano Ronaldo/Sevilla FC (rival - 26 Mar 2014)/Madridistas - read only as a game</p>
    </blockquote>





	Push Forward (Push, Forward)

**Author's Note:**

> Cristiano Ronaldo/FC Barcelona (rival - 23 Mar 2014)/Irina Shayk - can be read as sexual encounter or a game  
> Cristiano Ronaldo/Sevilla FC (rival - 26 Mar 2014)/Sergio Ramos - can be read as sexual encounter or a game (as he was suspended and watching this match)  
> Cristiano Ronaldo/FC Barcelona (rival - 23 Mar 2014)/Madridistas - read only as a game  
> Cristiano Ronaldo/Sevilla FC (rival - 26 Mar 2014)/Madridistas - read only as a game

Sweat forms, trickles, and falls. Vision comes and goes: from blurry to clear, fuzzy to sharp, splatters of color to defined lines. To black. Quick breaths grow shorter - exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale - oxygen fleeting, boundaries closing in. Push forward. Heart pounding - rhythmically, erratically. Now palpitating - fluttering. Now stopped... and again it pounds. Push through.  Skin clammy - blood rising - flushed, painted red. World spinning, stopping, collapsing. Pressure rising. Focus. Screams deafening, pain evident. Push, forward. Push. 

Find the eyes above you, find the eyes searching for you... Remember what you promised those eyes. Your mouth runs dry, you can feel pain rising, swelling within you, but you push on - you have to for them. You don’t do this for you, you never have, you do it for those eyes and for that fire that's burning strong within them. You want to be the reason, the spark for that fire - you have a need to be the spark - so you push through it, through the pain without giving it a second thought. You push forward. You push until you feel as if you can push no more, until you are overwhelmed by pressure, until you are beyond your limit and flirting with immortality. You push until you find yourself greeted by pure euphoria itself. You scream in satisfaction, in pleasure, in ecstasy. You find those eyes now, within your moment, because you need those eyes as much as they need you; you need to show them that this, all of it, was for them. That it was their eyes, those eyes that pushed you to this moment, that you could feel their gaze upon you. For now, those eyes are smiling in satisfaction, in approval. For now. You know it’s far from over, that those eyes expect more from you than you ever have of them, but it's those eyes that have always driven you forward so... You push forward. You do all you can under the scrutiny of those eyes but you can feel yourself weakening. Your body tremors, your muscles stiffen, your thoughts blur. Still, you push yourself harder, and harder, and harder… You can’t remember the last time it was this difficult but you have always liked a challenge, so you push yourself further but only to find your last efforts greeted by the disappointment of those eyes. You told them that you would be there for them if they found themselves in need but, tonight, even you couldn't be there for them in the way that they needed you. Tonight, you weren’t everything. You couldn't be though you had certainly tried. Tonight, you alone weren’t good enough for those eyes.

You close your eyes in shame - in embarrassment - hide your face behind your hands, and you begin to drown yourself in the rotting memories of the hellish week you’ve had to endure:

Sweat forms, trickles, and falls. Vision comes and goes: from blurry to clear, fuzzy to sharp, splatters of color to defined lines. To black. Quick breaths grow shorter - exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale - oxygen fleeting, boundaries closing in. Push forward. Heart pounding - rhythmically, erratically. Now palpitating - fluttering. Now stopped... and again it pounds. Push through.  Skin clammy - blood rising - flushed, painted red. World spinning, stopping, collapsing. Pressure rising. Focus. Screams deafening, pain evident. Push forward.

You feel full, moist lips against the surface of the hands that still cover your eyes. You feel full, glossed lips. You feel the lips of millions.  _Pushing through. Pushing forward._

__


End file.
